


Still Going Strong

by Reis_Asher



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hank, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hannor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sappy, conhank, hankcon - Freeform, old man Hank, old married couple connor and hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 07:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reis_Asher/pseuds/Reis_Asher
Summary: Hank's seventy-five and he's been married to Connor for the past twenty years. He doesn't know what the hottest android in Detroit still sees in him, but he's quite happy to let Connor remind him on a daily basis now that he's retired.





	Still Going Strong

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is all the fault of Twitter Jericho, because it felt like a challenge and I was inspired to write it just to get back at the notion that Hank is apparently too old to have an active sex life. Hank shares the same birth year as me (1985), so maybe I just take that shit personally. ^^
> 
> This fic is dedicated to everyone who: 
> 
> -thinks Hank is too old to fuck Connor.  
> -who want to age Hank down either to avoid negative comments or because he's an older man (gasp!).  
> -otherwise imply that older people shouldn't have or enjoy sex.  
> -who think that age gaps in relationships (between consenting adults) are somehow wrong or immoral.
> 
> It's also dedicated in a positive way to everyone who thinks Hank is sexy at any age and knows that Connor loves his Hank always and forever. :)

“Hank, wake up.” Connor’s voice echoed through the dream Hank was having, and he opened his eyes, rubbing the sleepy sand from them with wrinkled fingers.

“Hey, Connor,” Hank complained, clearing the frog in his throat. “S’early. What d’ya want?” The sunlight shining in through the curtains was enough to tell him that it wasn't that early, but wasn't retirement supposed to be about sleeping in late and taking it easy?

“Sorry, Hank.” Connor set a tray down on the bedside table. “I thought I would bring you breakfast in bed. I’ve counted out all your pills.” Hank felt the bed shift as Connor sat down on the edge of it, taking his hand and bringing it up to his mouth. Hank smiled as Connor kissed each finger, lips as soft and youthful as the day he’d been created.

Hank shifted to a sitting position. “Gee, you didn’t have to do that. I’m perfectly capable of doin’ shit for myself. You’re my husband, not my nursemaid.”

“I like caring for you, Lieutenant,” Connor said. The throwback to his rank made Hank smile as he remembered the days before his retirement. They’d been partners for a few years after the deviant investigation, right up until they’d gotten married and protocol dictated they be reassigned. A picture of them together at the DPD hung on the wall, Connor looking the same then as he did now.

“Come here,” Hank whispered, and he pulled Connor into a deep kiss, slipping his tongue into the android’s mouth. His body responded in kind, his arousal still as easy for Connor as the day he’d realized his attraction. Connor reached down and fondled his heavy dick through his shorts and Hank moaned into the kiss as Connor cupped his balls, taking his time playing with Hank just the way he liked it.

Hank parted the kiss to breathe, a smile crossing his face. “I’m such a dirty old man,” he complained. “Pushin’ seventy-five and fucking a man who looks forty years younger. Everyone must think I’m robbin’ the cradle.”

“Human norms don’t apply to androids.” They’d had this conversation before, but Hank had never asked Connor to age his appearance. Dirty old man or not, he loved Connor just the way he was, ageless and beautiful, the perfect man who would never grow old or tire out. “Your breakfast is getting cold,” Connor pointed out.

“It’ll wait,” Hank said, grabbing the mug of coffee and chasing his pills with it before setting it back down on the tray. He pulled Connor into another kiss and ran a trail of them up to his ear. “I want you to fuck me, Connor.”

“Mmm.” Connor smiled, the cheeky curve of his lips setting Hank’s heart on fire. He pushed Hank’s faded t-shirt up, planting kisses on the trail of grey hair on his stomach, working up to his nipples. Hank gasped as Connor sucked on one, swirling his tongue around. He switched over to the other one and Hank stroked his hair, loving the way this day was starting out.

“Dunno what you see in an old man like me,” Hank said. It was a tired old argument, and if he was honest with himself, he only rehashed it so he could hear all the things Connor loved about him from Connor’s own mouth.

Connor was smart enough to know that of course, and the twinkle in his soft brown eyes told Hank he was about to be indulged.

“Well,” Connor said, pushing his t-shirt up and over Hank’s head and tossing it aside. He kissed Hank’s hair. “Your hair is soft and white, like its made out of clouds.”

“It's thinning out. You’re so dumb, Connor.” Hank grinned. “But go on.”

“Your eyes are so vast and blue, like the ocean. I love the way they light up when you’re angry, and widen when you’re proud or happy.” Connor kissed down to Hank’s mouth. “Your two front teeth are prominent when you smile. It’s cute.”

“Cute. There ain’t nothin’ cute about me. You been readin’ those sappy poetry books in your head again?”

Connor ignored him and moved to his hands, rubbing his fingers over the soft, wrinkled skin. “I love these hands, how tender they touch me, but how they are also strong enough to hold me down while you fuck me.”

Hank grinned. That was more like it. Connor kissed down to his shorts, pulling them down and off, throwing them aside to gain access to his cock. Connor ran his tongue up the length of his shaft and Hank threw his head back with a gasp. “I love your cock,” Connor teased. “It’s well above the average human size in both length and girth.” He leaned forward to whisper in Hank’s ear. “It feels incredible inside me.”

“If you’re tryin’ to flatter me," Hank said, "it’s working.” Connor’s words went straight to his dick, making it twitch. He was done being flattered. He wanted Connor to fuck him senseless before he lost his mind from need.

Connor appeared to be in no rush, however. He moved to Hank’s thick thighs, kissing down them. “I love how the soft hair on your legs tickles my skin,” Connor whispered, “but your legs still have the strength to wrap around me tightly.” They’d fucked up against the wall last week, Hank protesting he was too old for it. Connor had held his entire weight up with no effort, of course, making the improbable possible. The miracles of technology.

Connor stopped teasing and grabbed the lube, seeming to sense Hank’s impatience. He slicked his fingers, pressing them into Hank’s hole, taking his time stretching his partner. Breakfast was definitely cold by now, but they had a microwave for a reason.

Connor withdrew his fingers and stripped down, taking his time to fold his fresh work clothes neatly. Hank watched him, his eyes roving over Connor’s perfect form and lingering on his stiff dick.

That wasn’t programming. That was Connor, hard for him, anticipating sex with him. He’d struggled to believe that at fifty-three, but at seventy-five it seemed almost impossible that this perfect android only had eyes for him.

And yet his eyes had never strayed elsewhere, not in twenty years of marriage. Connor’s brown gaze had always been fixed on him like he was the most attractive guy in the room, and that was the greatest flattery of them all.

Connor lifted Hank’s knees up for better access, and Hank rested his legs over Connor’s shoulders. It was easier this way; Connor didn’t feel pain, and he could support as much of Hank’s weight as he needed him to.

Hank bit his lip as Connor pressed the head of his slick cock inside, the slight burn subsiding as Connor buried himself and waited for Hank to adjust. Sensing Hank’s muscles relax (because of course he always cheated with those damn scanners), Connor pulled out and thrust in again, holding Hank’s legs tightly as he fucked him. Connor’s dick hitting his prostate was one of the finer pleasures in life, and Hank had been all too happy to cut down on the drinking and have more of this.

Hank gripped the sheets as he looked into Connor’s eyes, intense brown orbs focused on the task at hand. Not needing to breathe didn’t stop Connor from eliciting little gasps of pleasure as he fucked Hank, or stop his blush response from kicking in as he stepped up the physical activity. Connor grasped Hank’s cock in his hand, working it in time with his thrusts.

Hank was still as excited as the first time they’d done this, though this time they wore less clothes and Connor wasn’t bent over the kitchen counter begging for it. Connor sped up his pace, and Hank groaned as his reached climax, spilling all over his stomach before Connor. A few more thrusts and Connor came inside him, his body twitching involuntarily from the sensory overload as he drew out Hank’s name. He recovered, smiling, his smirk as warm as the sun filtering in through the curtains.

Connor spread Hank’s semen across his stomach, painting lines with his finger like an artist while admiring his handiwork with a sly smile.

“Ugh, Connor, get a towel,” Hank complained. Connor climbed off the bed and came back with a towel. He wiped Hank down with tender care before cleaning himself up. Hank placed his hand on Connor's arm to stop him.

“Don’t go to work today,” Hank begged. They'd had this conversation a lot since Hank’s retirement. “Stay in bed with me. The DPD can cope for one day without Lieutenant Connor Anderson.”

“Yes, but if I want to become Captain Connor Anderson, I can’t afford to take more time off,” Connor argued. He reached for his uniform, slipping on his pants as Hank watched. “Besides, you’ll seize up if you stay in bed. You should work on the yard, like you promised. The weather is predicted to be a balmy sixty-five degrees with scattered clouds and a zero percent chance of rain.”

“I wouldn’t be seizing up with the vigorous exercise I had planned, but fair enough.” Hank relented, knowing Connor had a point. “Before you go, could ya heat breakfast up for me? I think I’ll spend a little more time in bed before I head outside.”

“Of course.” Connor leaned down to take the tray and Hank grabbed his wrist, pulling him off his feet and down into a kiss. Connor countered by tickling Hank’s sides, making him shriek and giggle. Hank wrapped strong arms around Connor and rolled over on top of him, kissing him while pressing him down into the mattress. Seventy-five or not, he still had the weight and size of his frame to use against Connor, and while Connor could overpower him without even thinking about it, for some reason his husband always let him win.

“Resisting arrest, Connor?” Hank grinned, pinning Connor’s wrists to the pillows.

“Absolutely, Lieutenant,” Connor said. “You’ll have to lock me up and throw away the key.” Hank leaned down and kissed Connor’s neck for his retort, sucking on his skin until it parted to reveal the white plastic underneath. Hank ground his hips into Connor and realized Connor’s arousal had sprung back to life. His would take a little while, but he was willing to eat breakfast and talk with the man he loved while his body caught up with his mind.

Connor was going to give up. Hank could see it in the way his gaze turned serious for a moment as his fingers entwined with Hank’s.

“All right, Hank, we’ll spend the day in bed. I can probably file most of my reports from here.” Connor wiggled out of Hank’s grip and grabbed Hank’s ass, squeezing it tightly. Hank chuckled and lay his head on Connor’s chest, listening to his thirium pump beat. He closed his eyes and let out a long, contented sigh.

“Fuckin’ android,” he muttered softly.

“Grumpy old man,” Connor countered.

"On second thoughts, maybe you should go to work." Hank pouted.

"I couldn't possibly arrive at the station in such a compromised state," Connor replied. "It would not be appropriate." Hank let him up off the bed and Connor grabbed the tray of food, Hank admiring his backside as he walked out to the kitchen.

He’d never thought he’d feel such bliss again in that cold November of 2038, but Connor had shown him the sun again, thawing the winter frost and bringing back the hope of spring in the autumn of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of people seem to have expressed surprise that they've found me on Twitter, so I'll post here that my handle is @landale and you're welcome to follow me and talk about DBH all you like.


End file.
